


Santa, Baby...

by fullonzombae



Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Cunnilingus, F/M, Mall Santa Claus, Office Sex, santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 20:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullonzombae/pseuds/fullonzombae
Summary: After Don E murders a mall Santa, Blaine is left to take his place. Of course, it was only a matter of time before Liv found out.





	Santa, Baby...

Today had been his idea of hell. Blaine had lost count of the number of snotty, drooling kids that he'd had to placate with empty promises to do the best he could to get them something off their ridiculously unrealistic Christmas lists. Don E had killed a Mall Santa, and of course, it had fallen down to Blaine to pick up the pieces.

He'd certainly find a way to make Don E pay. Blaine unscrewed the bottle of brandy that sat on his desk and filled a glass as he tugged that stupid fake beard out of the way. It was as he finished the first drink that he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I swear to fucking god, Donald. I've spent all day sorting your shit. Get out of here." He tipped back another drink and wiped his mouth. "Would you believe how many spoiled brats I've had to deal with?"

The voice that answered him most certainly wasn't Don E. "Wow. And you looked in your element when I saw you." He turned to face the intruder, his eyes wide in shock. Oh, was he thankful that zombies couldn't blush.

"What do you want, Liv? What, you're here to laugh at me?" If she was going to mock him, did she have to do it whilst she looked like a million dollars? It would be one of those incredibly cruel double whammies; her laughing at his misfortune, and him knowing that she could have any man she chose that night. One thing was certain. Liv wouldn't be leaving The Scratching Post alone.

"I thought it'd be more festive in here." She sounded disappointed, and Blaine wondered if it would be reasonable to phone Clive. Help, I'd like to report a murder. She's just torn out my heart and now she's laughing at me as she crushes it in her hand. She stepped closer, and Blaine reached behind him, his hands gripping at his desk.

"I'm not the festive sort. Far more of a Scrooge."

She gave him a look that told him she didn't believe him. "Well, that's a shame. Because I saw Santa in the mall this afternoon, thought I'd come visit him myself, and now he's telling me he doesn't believe in Christmas. Which is a shame, because I really wanted to negotiate my way off the naughty list."

He laughed. "Liv, you're practically a saint. I highly doubt you'd be on the naughty list." She had stopped just in front of him, and Blaine could feel a lump in his throat, that cruel reminder that he was almost alive. That this was almost real. "I mean, what help is there for the rest of us?" He closed his eyes as she leaned in closer, her lips hovering by his ear.

"I forgot my panties, Santa. Good girls don't do that."

She truly was trying to kill him.

"Right. So... Why are you telling me?" He could feel her hands on his chest, and he refused to open his eyes in case that was enough to wake him from this reality. She answered by pressing her lips to his, sliding a hand up to cup his cheek. It took Blaine a moment to realise that this was real, something she wanted, and as it finally sunk in, he brought a hand up to rest on her waist, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss.

"What brains are you on," he asked, after he broke the kiss, pulling back slightly. " 'Cause if this is some brain with a Santa kink, or whatever..."

"Relax. I took a brain tube." Liv took his free hand, holding his gaze as she guided his hand between her legs. Somehow, the idea that this was her, and her entirely, did little to quell the nerves that simmered below the surface. Blaine slowly trailed his hand up her thigh, and as he reached her - as promised - unclothed cunt, he let out an unwitting gasp.

"Christ..." His thoughts were silenced by Liv's lips against him once more, and Blaine slowly trailed his thumb along the length of her, savouring the feeling of her arousal - the damp juices against his thumb - until he reached her clit, slowly and delicately. "This... This is what you want, yeah?"

"Stop worrying," Liv whispered, and as he slowly sunk a finger inside her, he was rewarded by the feeling of her bearing down, slowly fucking herself on him. He crooked his finger and applied a firmer pressure to her clitoris, watching as she closed her eyes and parted her lips. He could spend a lifetime asking what he had done to deserve this, but right now, all he could do was think about just how sublime she felt, how wondrous she would taste, and just how she would feel wrapped around his cock - already reminding him that it existed, and straining uncomfortably against the tacky Santa suit. Shifting his weight, he lifted Liv and turned so he could seat her on the desk, and as she settled, he pulled his fingers from her, gently sucking them clean.

He was dragged out of his thoughts about how divine she tasted as she unfastened his trousers and freed his cock, slowly wrapping her fingers around the shaft. As she slowly moved her hand along the length of his erection, he bowed down to kiss her, his lips parting against hers, thankful as she reciprocated and allowed him to slip his tongue inside to savour every taste of her. He reached down and unfastened her blouse, pushing it from her shoulders, then brought a hand to fondle her breast, small but perfectly formed.

It was minutes before she broke the kiss, but it still felt too soon. He tried to catch her lips in another kiss, but Liv had already slid from the desk and fallen to her knees in front of him. Had he found the situation unbelievable before now, this was hinging on the truly surreal. He watched as her lips parted, and as she slowly rolled her tongue around the head of his cock, his mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Blaine reached down to cup her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her skin, and he found himself rewarded as her tongue found that perfect spot, eliciting a tell-tale throb that he was certain she felt. Her tongue swiped over the tip once more, before she bobbed forward, taking him into her mouth. She would be the death of him, he decided as she looked up at him, her mouth full of cock as she wrapped her hand around the base, slowly massaging it in time with each bob of her head. Should she keep this up, he would fall apart and she would hold the evidence upon her tongue, the warm caverns of her mouth being the murder weapon.

"Stop." The word was almost choked as it left his lips, and as Liv looked up at him, he caught a brief glimpse of confusion and bewilderment.

"...Have you changed your mind?" She sounded so vulnerable in that moment, and Blaine shook his head.

"No. I just... I don't want this to be over too soon, and the way you're going, I'm..." It was as if he could see the anxiety seep from her as she exhaled slowly. "Get back on the desk," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her. "And take that skirt off. It's in the way."

She stood and eased her skirt off, deliberately slow and tantalising, and as she watched him with a renewed confidence, Blaine wondered if it would be premature to declare undying love for her. He lowered himself to his knees, and Liv settled on the edge of the desk, her legs parted invitingly.

"God, you look perfect," he whispered as he moved closer, pulling her towards him.

"You talking to me, or my..."

"... Both." Blaine laughed, tracing a finger back along her cunt, still wet and begging for his undying attention. "But you should know that you always look perfect. Especially from this angle." He slowly pushed his middle finger into Liv, listening to her breathy moan as a wordless praise. It came as music to his ears, and he leaned forward, slowly running his tongue along the length of her swollen lips, eliciting a whispered "fuck" from her mouth. Oh, he had every intention of fucking her, and had his own mouth not been occupied, he would have assured her of this.

Instead, his tongue found her clit, slowly and firmly massaging it as he slid another finger inside her. She was warm, damp, and rewarding, and he reached down to stroke himself as more praise and curses fell from her lips. She was heaven, and as he tasted the fruits of his labour, he realised that he had made it so.

"Fuck me... Blaine. Please." There was a desperation to her voice, and Blaine kissed her cunt once more, before slowly pulling his fingers from her. He stood and pulled her into a kiss, tender and hungry all at once. He could have spent an eternity between her legs, but her needs had called to him, and as she returned the kiss, he slowly eased himself into her waiting slit, rewarded with a moan leaving her lips and entering his. For now, they were one, and for now there was nothing else in the world that mattered to Blaine. He pulled her closer to him, until he could feel her slow and-ever-so-slightly present heartbeat against his, carefully balancing her as he twisted so that he was now sat on the desk, her balancing precariously on his lap.

She seemed to revel in the independence this gave her, and she began to ride him, her hips canting as she drew her own pleasure from his cock. Blaine pressed his lips to her neck, peppering it with kisses as his hands explored every expanse of her body. He prayed, as he bit down gently on her shoulder, that she wouldn't come down from her arousal with a sense of regret and shame, but to voice his feelings felt like it would be preempting fate.

Another thrust, and another cant of her hips, and he felt her quiver as an orgasm rippled through her. Blaine was thankful that she had climaxed before he had, a sign that he had done well, and as she stilled, she ran a hand through his hair. He thrust a few more times, kissing her with a fervent passion as he came, holding Liv close.

Blaine's fears that Liv would flee were quelled, and as his cock began to soften, she nestled against him, her head tucked under his chin. "Fuck," he whispered, almost disbelieving, before laughing quietly.

"Was that okay?" Liv sounded tired, and in need of reassurance, so Blaine tightened his grip on her, holding her within his arms.

"Perfect. It was perfect," he replied, a satisfied smile upon his face. "... Gonna have to get the suit and beard dry cleaned, though. Supposed to go back tomorrow." He let out a sigh, then pressed a kiss to the mass of hair tucked against him. "Liv... Is this a one time thing, or..." She shrugged, and he felt the anticipation building.

"Do you want it to be?"

"... Don't dodge the question. Don't do that. Please." Blaine hoped he didn't sound like he was admonishing her, but he knew that the alternative was to sound needy, desperate and insecure. Vulnerable. Not something that Blaine was happy to be, but something he could be all the same. For Liv.

She looked up at him, and he wanted to beg her not to break his heart. She was watching him the way she had that first day in the morgue, as she had tried to weigh up just who he really was. Blaine swallowed, trying to fight back the vice-like grip of anxiety as he reminded himself that she knew the measure of his sins.

"Blaine McDonough, are you going to break my heart?" Her question was whispered, tender and sincere, and enough to drag a sigh of relief from Blaine.

"I fucking hope not," he answered, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. "I really hope not."


End file.
